Page 22 of Emergency Engagement

‘Being touched...it’s expected. Were you uncomfortable with that earlier?’

His voice swirled round her like honey and she felt herself begin to burn from the inside out. When she thought of the heavy warmth of his arm draped over her...and, worse, the feel of his cool lips on hers...her pulse went into overdrive and she wanted to pass out. She didn’t have his level of experience, which was something she hadn’t taken into account.

Mouth dry, she managed to croak, ‘No. Why should I?’

‘Good. Just wanted to ask, but actually, I didn’t think you were.’

‘How so?’

‘If you were, let’s just say you wouldn’t have got into the rhythm so effortlessly.’

‘Yes...yes, I did do that. Get into the rhythm...effortlessly.’

‘You certainly did.’ His voice was approving. ‘No one could have doubted our relationship when you slipped two of your fingers under the waistband of my trousers.’ He grinned. ‘EvenIwas a little shocked at just how much we were in love at that point.’

‘Like I said, all part of the deal we made. You can rest assured that I’m fine with what has to be done. It’s for an audience and, like you say, that audience isn’t going to be watching twenty-four-seven.’

‘Ample time to recharge your batteries in between sets,’ he murmured with amusement.

He was so cool about it, so matter of fact. He’d touched her and she’d gone up in flames. She’d touched him and he’d been startled at her audacity. She wondered whether he thought that, in the back of beyond, all she got up to were barn dances, holding hands, and kissing under the mistletoe at Christmas.

‘Ample time,’ she agreed crisply. ‘And now, if you don’t mind...? I’d really like to get some sleep.’

Sammy tried to kill all wayward thoughts, but her sleep was broken by them nonetheless. She awoke early the following morning to find that she was still thinking about him and the effect he had had on her.

She’d had a crush on him a million years ago. Was there a reluctant attraction still there? Some kind of hangover from back in the day when she had looked at him with her adolescent crush carefully hidden?

Beyond that, was there something about him, something compelling, that she still found vaguely irresistible? She’d made it her mission to be strong and independent—to turn her back on the path her mother had taken, when she’d collapsed after her husband had died and then had foolishly and weakly turned to a guy for support when she should have looked inwards for her own inner strength.

She’d carved her own niche, relied on her own resilience, and had always assumed that a guy would come in due course—someone decent and reliable who shared her dreams and would never let her down. Out there, there was paragon of virtue waiting for her.

So was she angry with herself because an attraction that belonged in the past had decided to resurface? Because she should feel nothing for a guy who was literally draped in red flags? And yet she did. It felt pathetic to tingle like a teenager when he’d touched her for no better reason than a performance.

When she looked at the Amazonian blonde, she could see the sort of woman he was attracted to. He was indifferent toherbut it seemed she wasn’t indifferent tohim. She would have to start blotting out whatever foolish recollection of a crush had come along to ambush her common sense. She would have to match adult behaviour with adult behaviour.

She had a shower, dressed quickly in casual clothes and tentatively opened the bedroom door to see what awaited her outside. It was a little after seven and Rafael was at a desk by the window in front of his computer, working.

Every item of whatever he had used on the bed had been neatly tidied away and was folded on the coffee table in front of the television. Cushions were back in place. No one would guess that they had spent the night apart.

‘I never saw you as a neat freak, Rafael.’ She glanced at the folded clothes and then looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

‘Isn’t it great that you’re discovering exciting, new stuff about the guy you’re in love with?’

‘Oh, yes, I can barely contain my excitement.’

‘How did you sleep?’

‘Terrific. Great bed; very comfortable. And you?’

‘As well as can be expected on a sofa. Coffee?’

Rafael sat back and stretched, flexing his muscles, before standing up and strolling towards a coffee machine on a gleaming walnut sideboard which she only now noticed. The doors had been flung open to allow the balmy tropical air inside and, through them, she could glimpse a vista that could have been lifted straight from a magazine.

There was a distant view of bright-blue ocean, a stretch of greenery broken by swaying coconut trees—the very ones that surrounded the infinity pool—and bushes and foliage bursting with the bright colours of exotic flowers. All the familiar sounds were missing: the intrusive sounds of beeping horns, foot traffic outside her front door and the clatter of voices. It was peaceful and quiet, aside from birds, bees and the distant sound of a lawn mower doing something on the manicured grounds.

Determined not to let turbulent emotions get the better of her, Sammy smiled politely, nodded at his offer of coffee and strolled towards the open French doors.

He was barefoot in a loose white linen shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. He was so sinfully, spectacularly good-looking that it briefly took her breath away.

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